


hjack.exe

by scp116



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety Disorder, Drinking, Explicit Language, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It's mostly Rhack, M/M, Mild Gore, Panic Attacks, Tags May Change, Trans Male Character, Trans Rhys (Borderlands), kind of, let's play guess the musical, mentions of needles, read my stupid ass fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26488093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scp116/pseuds/scp116
Summary: Rhys Davies is not having a good time in college. Even with his two best friends by his side, it doesn't get any easier, especially not with crippling social anxiety and a slew of other issues- but what if someone offered to help? Tell him what to say, what to do, how to dress, how to succeed? How could he say no when he has a way out?
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands), Timothy Lawrence/Rhys
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Rhysie Davies

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my stupid ass fic <3 It gets better in chapter two, or at least I think so. Should be up soon!
> 
> *Tags will change as updates come out, and I'll tag TW/CW at the beginning of each chapter!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys Davies is free at last.

Rhys almost cried at the sweet, cold frosting on his tongue. If he didn't get to this decadence first, Vaughn would beat him to it and then he'd just have to commit a murder that day. It was his birthday cake after all, and if that short stacked nerd would rather play smash than get at this cake, he could fucking suffer.

Taking the pastry and a fork, he took a seat at the couch, crossing his legs and leaning in to admire the cake Vaughn had stressed himself out over. His parents certainly weren't about to work on a whole birthday celebration for him, especially not after knowing what he planned to do with his newfound independence, but lucky for him he had Vaughn and Yvette to scrape together change and raid Winco to put together a small birthday party for him. "Happy Birthday Dork Ass" in bright, blocky letters cut out of cardstock, and a few cards congratulating him on his acceptance to Stanford. He didn't really care about Stanford as a school, but god at least it was away from Pandora, Arizona. Eighteen years there was eighteen years too many. That wasn't all they got him, not quite- a few gift cards to restaurants in the area they thought he'd like, and a few "It's a boy!" cards to make him laugh.

But here it was. After four years only talking to these people online, four years of getting shoved into lockers and sitting at the back of the class, and four years of putting up with Vincent and Catherine Davies, he was in California, far away from all that. He wasn't quite naive enough to think he'd be cool per se, especially not at goddamn Stanford University, but at the least he hoped the bullies there had a bit more tact in their torture. Less locker shoving and more- he didn't know, shit- not inviting him to study group. That would have been fine with him, academics were boring as shit anyways, and his and Vaughn's dorm was cozy enough. Yeah, cozy was a word for it. Sure.

A vague whine made him look up from the cake at Vaughn, standing in the doorway and crossing his arms. "I thought we would be sharing that cake."  
"I'm not- what made you think I'd eat the whole thing?"  
"You took the whole thing. You don't...have a plate? Why?" Rhys shook his head and took a bite.  
"Don't need one. Why waste energy washing a dish?"  
Vaughn snorted and plopped down next to him, setting his Dr. Pepper on the coffee table they'd found on craigslist. "It's better than eating out of flimsy plastic."  
"Yeah...but not by much."

Vaughn smiled and leaned back into the cushions, almost wedging himself between them. "I'm gonna make you do dishes at some point. Just you wait." Rhys pouted at that and held out a forkfull of cake smothered in frosting, using his flesh arm to wipe the frosting off the corners of his mouth and licking them off. He smirked and leaned in, taking the bite off the fork, and leaned back into his spot. "Winco never fails to impress."  
"What are you, sponsored by Winco?" He snorted, taking another bite into his mouth and pulling his legs in closer to his body. Yvette told him, the day they met in person, that he did that a lot. Tried to ball up, or however she put it. Psych majors are fucking annoying, he was just trying to get comfortable. And maybe hide a bit of the gangly ass legs that put him almost a foot taller than Vaughn. Then again, he was only 4'11, so that wasn't saying a whole lot- but still.

Speaking of Yvette, there were three quick raps at the door before it swung open, with their friend carrying a box of blankets and pillows in her arms. Rhys stood to take it from her, choking down his previous bite of cake.  
"This is the last of it, I think." Vaughn smiled and started on saying something, but she shook her head and shoved the box into his arms instead of Rhys' outstretched ones. "No need to thank me. A bite of cake will be more than enough."  
Rhys glanced back at the love of his life (for the night) and nodded with a sad smile. "Everyone wants a piece, it seems." He picked up the container and handed her the fork, waiting for her to take a bite. "One day, we'll be alone together. I swear it."

Vaughn scoffed at the drama, standing back up and taking one of the blankets into his hands. "Mind if I borrow this until my stuff gets here, Rhys?" After his quick nod of approval, he took the blanket into his arms and smiled at both of them. "I'm gonna get some rest, assuming my stuff will be here tomorrow I'm gonna have a lot of unpacking to do. I should probably get to sleep." Rhys smiled at that.  
"Yeah, you probably should. Will you?"  
Vaughn rolled his eyes as the cocky grin. "I'll get back to you on that." And with that, he whisked around and was gone from the living room. Rhys turned back to Yvette. "Thanks for holding on to my stuff until we got the keys. I owe you one." She smiled and patted his shoulder, tightening the belt of her coat around her as she took her car keys out. "You owe me several, Rhys."

"...are you going to go to your appointment?" She broached, stalling at the door. "Tomorrow at 9, right? You might want to get some rest."  
Rhys paused and looked down, nodding before staring out into the hallway behind her. "Yeah. I'm going. I have everything I need, so...I guess we'll see how it does. I'll keep you both posted."  
She gave a curt nod, turning back to the hallway. "You goddamn better." She only got a few steps down the hall before turning back to him and sighing. "I think I heard about a party going on tomorrow night, if you two are up for it. Consider this an invite?"

Rhys tensed up a bit and nodded, eyebrows raising in an attempt to seem nonchalant. "Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks." He wasn't going to that party. Not in a million years, he was very not good at socializing. The three of them had met on a goddamned Warrior Cats forum in 2008, what did she want him to say? Yeah, I'd love to go to your big party at one of the biggest colleges in the country, with some of the smartest kids in their group of peers, all of which had clearly been doing something right to get into a school like this? Not including himself- he just lucked out with being damn good at debate. That wasn't intelligence, that was bureaucracy. That was catching people on hangup and pointing out stutters, which really meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Fort Lauderdale was nice at last summer's nationals, but...no, he wasn't smart like these people were. He wasn't some prodigy, he wasn't the son of some rich politician, he wasn't...on their level.

All of this and more slipped out through the cracks in his smile, as he nodded and kept his eyes on a spot on the wall behind her ear. "I'll be there."

-

He...was there, for whatever reason. Unfortunately, Yvette had actually had the nerve to follow up on his around 11, not only asking about his appointment, but asking about if he planned to be there tonight. What kind of nerve. And damn, was it sad to watch himself in his bathroom mirror, post shower, lying to his friend and saying he would be there that night. Or, he thought he was lying, and if Yvette hadn't asked him to be her designated driver for the night, he would have been. She'd asked about the appointment too. That part was mostly his fault if he was honest, he'd been excitedly blabbering over voice chat about how excited he was for this, for months at least, maybe years. He felt kind of bad, lying about that one. Telling her it wouldn't be happening for a while. Telling her they couldn't make it happen, he had to jump through hoops, argue with insurance, save up to cover monthly costs...she believed him about this one, at least, he thought, as he anxiously folded and unfolded the prescription in his pocket.

"And are you going to be able to handle it, do you think...?" She furrowed her brow as she drove, nearing their destination as he leaned against the window to look out at the stars.  
"How do you mean?"  
"I know you don't love needles, so I just...I'm just wondering how that'll work out." He coughed a bit at that, never looking away from the sky. Made it a bit easier.  
"Oh yeah. I'll be fine."

-

The party wasn't as...pretentious as he thought it would end up being. It still sucked, standing in the corner as Yvette got tipsy and Vaughn started going on about 'theory' or whatever the hell to some girl with glasses and a Stanford sweater. He...he did that a lot. He seemed to be slightly stuttering through his explanations, before eventually folding in on himself too much to finish the conversation. She took over at the least, but he couldn't hear what she was saying- that said, he should probably find his own conversation to be had than creep on other people's equally boring conversations.

He didn't end up doing that. Finding someone to talk to. Not that he didn't try, sauntering up with a smile and a greeting, before they made their excuses, or started making fun of him, or even just straight up walked away from him. This wasn't abnormal, or something he wasn't used to. College was just high school with more rights, but the dynamics never really changed. And his place on the social totem never really changed either.

After a few hours and an anxious glance at Vaughn, they nodded back at each other and went to grab Yvette. She wasn't too bad off, just a little too tipsy to drive- but after a few slurred words and confused glances she shook her head, dropped her keys into Rhys' outstretched palm, and put her hands up. Vaughn put his arm under her and helped her shuffle to the car, without too much protest at the least. She grunted as he shifted her into the backseat and Rhys started up the engine, waiting for Vaughn to get them both buckled and pulling away from the apartment. It wasn't a far drive to the campus where he and Vaughn lived, and the plan was for her to just crash on the couch for that night.

For the first time in the last few hours, he was alone in his room. That was a good feeling, being alone for a bit. He took his hair out of the bun he'd pulled it back into, then pulled his t-shirt off and into the laundry. Flopping on the bed, he reached up to disconnect his mechanical arm, having found it to be less than comfortable to sleep with. There wasn't a way to make his prosthetic more comfortable, the doctors had confirmed a while back- he just had to plug it in overnight and try to relax without the presence he was used to at his side.

Parties were never a victory for him. He'd only been to one or two over his years in high school, and as much as Vaughn told him "They're hit or miss, bro-" he always seemed to miss, without fail. His forearm hooked under his knees to pull them closer to his chest as he balled up on the bed, falling to the side and burying his face into the pillow.

He'd really, really hoped college would be different.


	2. Rich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the catalyst.

It was supposed to be a normal day in class for Rhys, after two weeks or normals days droning on and on and sucking whatever life was left in him. Being in college wasn't exactly easy, but god it was easier than high school at least. Crying behind the cafeteria at least once a day was a small price to pay for the privilege of being able to attend Stanford at the least, or so his mother had told him. Tears were a small price for everything. Grades, status, image, and now, Stanford. Small prices, always small prices for everything. One of these days, he hoped he'd run out. Tear ducts dried up, living off of eye drops for the rest of his life if it meant he'd never have to go through some senior catching him sobbing behind the library again. The pitiful smile was almost worse than open mockery- almost worse, as he quickly learned, from the next group of three sorority girls.

But it was alright, for now. He could cry for days it it meant he could stay far away from Pandora, Arizona. Now THAT was a 'small price to pay'.

For once, he was actually inside the library, only crying internally as he sat at a table far from the rest of the students and buried himself into his Econ textbook. Maybe Vaughn was onto something when he went on about how it was time to start bullying Econ majors. This shit was made up. For a moment, he thanked any deity who would listen that nobody had spoken to him at the party the week they moved in, because if he had to listen to someone drone on about this garbage he would have ...well, he didn't know what he'd do, but his brainstorming would surely get him acquainted with the local psych wards if Vaughn and Yvette caught wind of it.

Someone was pulling out a chair beside him, and the screech on the concrete floors almost startled him. His book almost snapped shut at the sound, as he pushed away from the intrusion into his train of thought. The person was a little smaller than him, gender TBD. They slammed their backpack on the desk and pulled out a laptop and a book, opening both and settling into the spot. Rhys blinked. He thought he'd chosen a spot far enough away from everyone that they'd understand to leave him the fuck hell alone, but apparently not. Maybe he should just study at home, but the room had nothing to show for it in the slightest yet. It was just a mattress on the floor and a TV he'd found at the thrift store. Not the ideal relaxing space to study, and it only took three days before he wats itching for a change of scenery, even his brain running on overdrive around his peers wasn't enough to keep him cooped up in that room for a day longer.

He really, really didn't want to go back to fucking nesting in his room just because this jackass didn't get the queue to leave him alone. If the hoodie and table in the far back corner of the library didn't say something, he didn't know what would. He could just plop down like that, not even considering the social consequences of violating someone's bubble like that, whatever. He wasn't moving, for five minutes at least. No, no that was too easy, that was an easy out. He'd stay until he was too miserable to stay, then make a break for it, giving him just enough time to get home- or to the back of the library, at least. He shouldn't have to plot out like this, but this JERK thought it was just fine, just hunky fucking dory to just- just- sit their ass down next to him and make him all uncomfortab-

"Can I help you?" The stranger looked up in a soft grimace, eyebrow raised. The glance under the hoodie didn't reveal a lot about their gender or anything else that could be relevant, but they had their eyes on him and they were expecting an answer."What? No. I don't need anything. Do you need anything?" He tried to look defensive, crossing his arms and sitting up straighter, but it wasn't working very well from the look on their face.

"Whatever, spaz. You've been screwing your face up at me for the last seven minutes. Sorry if I stepped on your backpack or something."

Rhys sneered, looking down, and tried his best to focus again. Just tune the presence out, and read, Rhys. Read. Just fucking re-

"Oh my god, you look like you're about to have a stroke. What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, what's- what's the- what's your damage? You just fucking- just come and sit here, I don't want anyone to bother me, this is the furthest I could have gotten away from you people, and you still come and goddamn sit here just to egg me on- I'm just trying to study and I don't want anyone to watch me read a book like a fucking weirdo- there are so many other tables,, why didn't you pick one of those? I don't want to talk to you, I don't think you want to talk to me either-" He was starting to tense up even more, unconsciously lifting a leg into his chair and wrapping his arms around it, as he felt himself running out of breath, out of energy, out of time, he had to get back home and- oh god, was he still talking? "It's like, basic social rules, man, If you see someone sitting alone you're not supposed to- fuck. I- whatever, just have the table." He shoved his stuff back into his messenger bag and slung it over him as fast as he could, a few stray pencils falling to the ground he couldn't be bothered to pick up. His only priority was to get the hell out of this library, get home, get out now, and get in bed as soon as he could.

The stranger reached out to grab him, the hem of his shirt, as he muttered quietly to himself. "Woah, dude, wait." Not having the courage to actually touch this asshole, he instead took the bit of shirt the person had grabbed and yanked it out of their grip.  
“Don't fucking touch me!” They held up their hands in an attempt to calm him down, furrowing their brow and backing up a bit.  
“Calm down man. I'm sorry, I wasn't- I didn't think you'd mind. The librarian keeps eyeing me because she thinks I'm stealing books, I just wanted to study without being watched. I didn't mean to...worry you.”

Rhys pulled back, sneering as he clutched his bag to his chest. His tight expression softened a bit when the stranger extended a hand to shake, and pushed in their chair.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you, honest. You ok man?"   
Rhys let out a soft breath and looked down, realizing as he glanced around that his frightened tirade had drawn a bit of attention. "Yeah. I'm...sorry about that, man. I didn't realize...sorry."  
They shook their head and withdrew the hand after not shaking. "No worries, I get it. You seem really wound up, huh?"  
"Yeah, I...I guess you could say that. You'd...probably be right."  
"Yeah, I figured. No worries, I get it. I used to be the same way my freshman year. And sophomore year, and...fuck it, the summer of junior year, too. Didn't get the hang of this college thing until a few months ago."  
"Heh...yeah, I can hope I calm down a little sooner than that. You're a junior?"  
"Yeah, econ major." Goddamnit. "You?"

"Computer tech. My statistics class is kind of piling it on early."  
"Oh, I get that, yeah..." They paused, glancing to the librarian peering around a bookshelf. They waved her off, and as she turned with a huff, they shuffled their things.. "Never managed to win that one over. A few months ago I finally figured out how to make all my teachers stop hating me, but I forgot she had a vendetta against me."  
"Ha, you gotta tell me how you managed to make all your teachers warm up to you. I never figured that one out." With that, the stranger's face dropped and drew to a point- their fists started to tighten and go white on the strap of their bag, as they leaned in just a bit too much.  
"I...I wouldn't have to tell you. I mean, I could show, if you wanted me to."  
"Are you-" Rhys paused. This person just went from zero to- he wasn't even sure what, but god knows they got really intense really fast. "-are you offering me drugs or something?" They looked like they couldn't laugh fast enough, almost choking on a giggle as they leaned in further.  
"Drugs? What? No, dude- dude, no. Not drugs. Never drugs." They wiped at their nose a few times and reached out to put a hand on their shoulder, but didn't seem to notice when he put his hand up to stop them. Just kept talking with the intense stare. "No drugs."  
"Okay, then....then what? What exactly are you showing me?"

Their smile spread across their face. "I'll show you." Rhys couldn't have said no to that if he knew how. That wasn't a question, that wasn't a request. It was a statement, unavoidable- even more so as they grabbed his arm and tugged at it towards the door. "Come on. I promise it's safe." That meant absolutely nothing to him, but despite his feet gluing themselves to the ground and his brain buzzing with fear and possible outcomes to this- he forced himself to move. Go with the stranger, maybe they'll handle your life better than you can right now.

-

"This...is not what I expected to see, Rich. I'm not gonna lie to you."  
The stranger, who he'd learned was named Rich, looked up from the computer they'd hunched themselves over. "How do you mean?""  
"I expected drugs, dude. I really expected drugs."  
"What? No, I told you. No drugs." They rolled their eyes, looking back to the monitor and squinted as they muttered 'never drugs' to- themselves? Him? The computer maybe. Rhys was pretty good with computers, but he didn't really get a good look at what was happening on that screen. Rich was hyper focusing on it, biting their tongue and pushing reading glasses up their face. "It's just a program. Well...I guess it looks like a drug, but it's not. It's not."  
Rhys nodded, pursing his lips and glancing back at the door out of Rich's dorm he'd memorized the look of. He'd been standing there, looking over Rich's back, for a good thirteen minutes maybe? He could still bolt if needed.

"Here. I'm almost done." They pressed a final few buttons and held out their hand for their soda, grasping for it before Rhys scooted it an inch closer for them, then with the final click of the trackpad they-  
"It's done." They rustled around in their top left drawer then pulled something out, a pill it looked like- clear, with a small motherboard inside, from what he could see of the tiny thing. He set it next to the computer, then pulled the smallest cord Rhys had ever seen out of their pocket, using it to connect them. "Just let it upload."  
"Oh god, do you expect me to swallow that? There's no way." Rich squinted at it, looking down at their shoes, then back up at Rhys.  
"I mean...I've never done a suppository, but I guess I can try-"

"No, no, no. Even if you convinced me I wouldn't do it. I can't do pills, I puke my guts out every time I try. If I can't handle a Tylenol, no way am I swallowing that fucking thing. What is it anyways?"  
"It's an AI, Rhys! It tells you what to do- tells you how to act, helps you with your homework, talks to your teachers and peers, everything you can't handle it'll do!"  
Rhys cocked his head to the side as he squinted, looking at the thing. "It can do all that? It looks like a fucking...god, I don't even know."  
"It can do all that and _more_. I don't even know what it can do, really. I found the program on my brother's computer and I've just been making it operable."  
"Did you steal this from him...?" Rhys kept turning it over in his hands, squinting at it and trying to read the code over Rich's shoulder. "I mean...have you asked him about this? Like why he didn't proceed with it?"  
"No. He's dead." He looked up to Rich, lowering it and raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm...sorry about that man. I didn't mean to-"  
"It's fine!" They moved on from the apparent social infraction faster than they should have, back to looking at the pill between Rhys' fingers with an unreadable expression.  
"I-"  
"No, really. It's fine. This thing-" They pointed to the pill, taking it out of Rhys' hands. "...has been blocking out whatever part of my brain was making me sad about it. It's fine!" Jesus christ.  
"You took it?"  
"Oh yeah. How do you think I got the hang of college? I couldn't even begin to figure this out on my own. Shit, freshman year I looked a lot like you Rhys. No offense."

"Fucking- you're sure it's safe? You haven't seen any negative effects?"  
"Yeah!" Rich's expression at this point was a little...scary. They'd scared him this entire time, literally almost every minute he knew them, so this wasn't anything new, but it was still worth noting. Their brow furrowed and their lips pulled into a smile as they held it up in front of their eyes, the pill unassuming under their scrutiny. The clear casing showed the insides had nothing to show for the nature of it- no labelling, no writing, nothing to indicate what it was. Rhys probably would have thought it was a dog tracker if he didn't know any better. "So? What do you say, Rhys?"

He pulled back, looking down at his hands and fiddling with the strap of his bag. "I..." Aw, fuck it. "I still can't physically do pills. I'd love to try, man, but...sorry." Rich's smile fell as they squinted harder at it, but otherwise there was no indication he'd heard Rhys in the slightest. Not until he looked up at Rhys with a curious look.  
"...that's a prosthetic, isn't it?" Rhys' hand reached up to clutch at his left arm, as he looked down at it.  
"Ah, yeah, it i-"  
"Not that. The eye." His hand flew up to cover his eye, raising an eyebrow.  
"...yeah. Yeah, it is. How did you notice...?"  
"The color is slightly off-kilter, and when you looked at the pill you only held it up to the real one."  
"Yeah, it's a prosthetic. Why? What does that..." Rhys trailed off the end of his sentence, looking back down to the pill.  
"...do you need that eye right now?"  
"Do I- yes, I need it, Rich."  
"I think I can. I can make it work, give me a week and I'll make it work."

Rhys shook his head, still instinctually covering his eye. "I don't even know if I'm going through with this dude, I can't just fork it out and hand it over..."  
"Give me a week. Take the week to figure it out and by the time you decide it'll be done." They turned back to their computer and plopped down in the years old gaming chair, back to typing. Worrying his lower lip, he pulled his palm away and looked down at it. "Does it work? Can you see with it? I can make it work."  
"...I have a spare."  
"Get it to me by tomorrow night. I'm going to start now, and I'll get on the hardware then."  
"Fuck- this is fucking crazy, dude. I don't know-" Rich looked back, spinning to face him and relaxing into the chair, looking the most at-ease Rhys had ever seen them.  
"A week to think about it. I just need your spare eye. If you say no, I'll put it back to the way it was. Promise."

Rhys held their gaze for a painfully long moment, before they shook their head and turned back. "I'm going to start. If you don't drop off the spare by tomorrow night I'll assume you don't want to give it a shot."

With nothing more to be said between them, Rhys turned back to the door, lingering for a moment before taking his leave without a word.

Fucking christ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still not sponsored by winco. John-Marie can still suck it lol
> 
> also uhhhh if you have an actual prosthetic eye please yell at me about inaccuracies! i know nothing! <3
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr at @scp116!


	3. Dr. Timothy Lawrence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Timothy, stage left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to my friend who beta'd this for me <3 Check her out on here at Meowwow72 or on Tumblr at meow-vvow!

It had been a long week for Rhys. The weeks were always long, each day at a public school in America dragging out for nothing until the 'sweet release' of the weekend- but the sweet release was more of a concept. A lie he told himself when the weekdays got too hard. Weekdays got too hard a lot of the time, he found, but weekends at home weren't much better.

He just liked to fantasize about a sweet release from the 'day to day', as they put it.

Regardless, he wasn't in an American public school anymore. He was in an American college, and that was arguably worse. At the least it was no better, with intimidating hallways and frightening students littering each one. Professors sneered down at you from above with their neatly trimmed facial hair and their spectacles, and when they gave someone the look that highlighted their harrowing features, it was rarely good news for the offending student who had earned their ire.

Doctor Lawrence was a sweet exception. Ratemyprofessors.com had rated him with mercy- or at the least, with heat. And lord knows thirty seven horny students couldn't be wrong, could they? They surely weren't this time. Rhys had never used a website like that before, so he wasn't sure of the standard for a review, but looking at Dr. Lawrence's reviews versus nearly every other faculty member, he was fairly certain a few of these students had just reviewed for his looks. They didn't say much of anything of substance in their review, just that they'd take his class again in a heartbeat.

A gentle tapping from the other end of Rhys' desk drew his attention, and as he shut the lip of his laptop and looked back up at Dr. Lawrence, he could completely see why.

Dr. Lawrence was pretty, to say the least. Not in the way Rhys was pretty, with soft skin and thighs men kill and die for. No, Dr. Lawrence shouldn't have been nearly as 'pretty' as he was, considering his features. A harsh jawline, a resting face set to frighten off a weaker willed student, especially not a soul patch...no, none of these were classically 'pretty' features, but Dr. Lawrence made them very, very pretty. At least to him. He smiled more than any other Professor Rhys had met or studied under or even passed in the hallway- none of them cared to take pity on his fears, giving him a calming smile or even a friendly wave. No, not here, not at Stanford. At Stanford students kept their heads down unless to dunk on each other, and professors were not afraid to flew their metaphorical muscles to frighten those who could be frightened.

But not Dr. Lawrence.

Smiles, softer deadlines, easier questions during lecture, a subject Rhys loved since high school, and they even played Kahoot once. Dr. Lawrence was by far the best teacher Rhys had encountered so far at Stanford, and he seemed to take a liking to him. Most of Rhys' teachers hadn't cared for him, which they couldn't be blamed for with a student body size of around 7000 each year. But every time he'd walked into English 102 so far, three times a week for the third week now, he couldn't help but relax a bit at Dr. Lawrence. Even if he wasn't smiling that day, although he usually was when Rhys walked in, the sight of him alone made him feel a bit better about being out of his nest.

He hadn't dared venture out of his dorm for anything he didn't need, not since Sunday. He only left to drop off his spare eye. He and Rich didn't say a word to each other when he dropped it off- he didn't have much of a chance to, honestly. He knocked, the door opened, Rich gave him a once over and dropped his Arizona tea to take the eye, then shut the door. He didn't set the drink down, he...he dropped it. To the floor. Didn't make a move to get it, or catch it, there wasn't even a table nearby he could have been aiming for. He just let it fall, took the eye, and shut the door. No doubt Rich was a fucking weirdo, but in all fairness, Rhys was the one who snapped at him, borderline screaming at him in the middle of the library for nothing. Rich was just trying to sit down, after all. Thankfully he hadn't had any similar outbursts at his classmates. But, just in case, he really, really didn't want to risk leaving his dorm. Vaughn was getting a little worried, watching him hole up in his room. While the concern was appreciated, he didn't have to worry yet. It had only been three days, after all, and he was still going to classes, getting food, the important things Vaughn knew Rhys tended to forget when things went south.

"Mr. Davies?"

Fuck.

"Yes Mr. Lawrence?" Rhys perked up, lifting his head out of his hand to respond as he stole a glance at the board behind him. They were going over some short story he vaguely remembered reading last week- four classes for the semester didn't sound like a lot, and it really wasn't too bad, but it was a lot of reading material, especially here of all places. At least he was getting by, if barely.  
He didn't hear the question. He didn't hear his answer. He just saw Dr. Lawrence purse his lips and nod, right before he looked down to his watch and confirmed with the clock on the wall.  
"Well, I suppose class is out. Now get out of my classroom." He grinned at the last second, his eyes scrunching up with his nose. The crow's feet around his eyes seemed out of place- he wasn't old enough for those. Maybe thirty five? Still, Rhys didn't have any complaints. "Oh, Rhys, would you mind staying back for a second please?""  
Rhys felt a thud of electricity but nodded, eyes widening, turning back to face his favorite professor with a frightened smile. "Everything alright, sir?"  
"Well, I don't know if _everything_ is alright, but all is well here." Laughing a bit at his own joke, he ushered Rhys inside the classroom with a hand on his shoulder, shutting the door behind him. "I just want to make sure you're alright. You didn't seem all there today, if that makes sense." He leaned on his desk behind him and folded his hands in his lap.

Rhys looked down at his shoes then back up, at least as much as he could manage. He couldn't bring himself to look Dr. Lawrence in the eye, only to about his shoulder before he had to stop. It wasn't common to cower away from someone you were a bit taller than, but he did. "Oh- yeah, I'm fine! I just didn't get a lot of sleep- you know, roommate keeping me awake with studying and all." He snorted, like he'd made a joke, and thankfully Dr. Lawrence had the decency to humor him and smile back.  
"Well, I just want to make sure. I don't want to harp on you for being tired, so I'll stay out of it unless it becomes a habit. Deal?" Rhys nodded and looked back to the floor, picking at the zipper on his messenger bag and looking back, finally meeting his kind eyes.  
"Deal. I don't want you to think I don't care about this class, I really do, I swear, it's just a lot going on right now."  
"You're right, there is." And here it was- what set Dr. Lawrence apart from the rest of Rhys' professors who didn't visibly care for much except the cafeteria coffee and maybe turnitin.com. "I know being a freshman isn't easy. Especially after moving across the country like you did. That was you, right?" He folds his arms across his chest. "Arizona?"

He nodded, relaxing a bit. "Yeah, Pandora, Arizona. Surprised you remembered."  
"I like to make an effort." Dr. Lawrence smiled then leaned in a bit. "Is Arizona as nice as I remember it being? I remember it was really pretty- but I haven't been for quite a while so maybe that's changed."  
"I thought it was pretty. Or, everywhere but Pandora was pretty, for the most part. Kind of boring, but nice if you're a fan of landscapes."  
"Why not Pandora?" Rhys laughed softly and looked down, to his right, then crossed his arms.  
"I have no clue how to answer that, honestly. It's just...nothing. It's boring. There's nothing to do except go to church, go to school, and go to Raley's."  
"Well, did you like it at least?"  
Rhys fiddled with his hands in his lap, slowing for just a moment before getting back to rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. "I guess it was okay. The people I associated with weren't the best, but I had nothing against the town."  
"School, church and Raley's do tend to attract the unsavory types."

The two men laughed softly at his joke, looking up and making a tentative eye contact as Rhys rearranged his things in his bag.  
"I should get going- roommate will worry if I'm out too long, you know how it is."  
"Oh, right. I'd hate to keep you too long, Rhys. Try and get some rest?" Rhys nodded, then turned and left the room with as much grace as he could muster. He certainly was NOT thinking about the possibility of Dr. Lawrence watching him leave- that would be creepy. He might have a bit of a crush on his hot, chiseled professor, but god help him if he couldn't at the least have some dignity about his embarrassing tastes. Vaughn would have certainly poked fun at him for being 'Hot for Teacher' if he knew, the stacked jerk.

'Hot for Teacher' indeed..

\--

Speaking of stacked, Vaughn got back only a few minutes after Rhys did. He had obviously just come back from the campus gym, and not in a sexy way. He was still catching his breath a bit from the jog back, his hair sticking to his forehead and the nape of his neck, the smell genuinely offensive in the tight hallway. Rhys bristled on instinct when he saw that his best friend was the source of...all that, but rolled his eyes and unlocked the door for him. Taking a step back, he plugged his nose with one hand and held the other outstretched into the doorway.

"Your majesty."

Vaughn snorted and had the nerve to clap him on the shoulder as he entered, making Rhys seriously reconsider wether he had any more errands to run, anywhere else to be aside from this stinky ass dorm- but he couldn't think fast enough before Vaughn shouted something about air conditioning the whole campus. With a heavy heart, Rhys braced for impact and stepped in, shutting the door behind him.

"You reek."  
"Thanks for that, bud. You know I appreciate the ego boost on occasion."  
"Of course. You fucking stink. I'd be remiss not to let you know."  
"You could be nice to me, you know."

Rhys made some of the most exaggerated gagging noises to date, before cracking open the fridge and peering inside.  
"I...fuck, we're out of everything, huh?" Rhys scratched the back of his head, before going to set his bag down on the chair but pulling it back over his neck as he looked deeper into the fridge.  
"Yeah, pretty much. I meant to run to the store, but as much as I've gotten up to lifting, I'm not up for carrying ninety pounds of plastic bags two and a half miles back from the store today."  
"Oh, so you're leaving me to do it."  
"...Yeah."  
"Thanks for that."

Vaughn sighed and raised the hand towel to his face, wiping off the sweat before it could dry. "Do you want me to do it? I can, it'll just have to wait until I get out of the shower."  
"No, I'll just...I'll just go now. I want food and I don't want to wait for you to finish up. Need anything from the store?"  
"A good donut."  
"Roger."

-

It wasn't Raley's, but it would have to do. It had the same linoleum, the same weird deli, the same rotisserie chickens, so as far as Rhys cared it was good enough. Granted, he hadn't tried the chickens yet, but he was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt for now.

The salad aisle was the worst aisle of the store in his opinion- nothing but croutons and stupid salad dressings, and of course the vinaigrette Vaughn texted him for as he walked in the door was on the highest shelf. Rhys looked tall enough to reach, but legs men drool over only got him so far, and that wasn't to the vinaigrette. And with nobody around for him to bat his eyelashes at to get at that dressing, he was effectively fucked. Unless he got up on his toes a certain way...yeah, that could work.

As he struggled to reach and chewed on his lower lip, he almost didn't notice the older woman walking down the salad aisle, then stopping in front of the bacon bits. He paid her no mind, focused on the pads of his fingertips that brushed the bottle of dressing, teasing him every time he grasped for it and before sliding out of his reach. It took a few tries, but when he finally sealed the deal and closed his hand around the glass, he sunk back to his normal stance and smiled a bit, reading the label with a calm expression considering his utter victory.

"You should get a man to do that for you, honey." The woman drew his attention for only a second with her pointed stare, until he looked back down at the bottle and squinted at the letters.  
"I am a man, miss. I got it."

She didn't respond, just kept staring. Every time he glanced up to check, she was still focused on him, her eyebrows narrowing a bit more each time he looked. Pursing his lips and swallowing the sprouts of something bad growing in his stomach, he met her gaze and lifted an eyebrow.  
"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"Not at all, honey. Not at all." Her voice was chilly, her nose up in the air as she got a grip on her cart and whisked past him. Time slowed to a painfully dreary pace as she did, and Rhys heard from her clear as day a word he was all too familiar with. Unless she was talking about a transmission of some kind, where was no mistaking it.

Feeling his stomach sink all over again, the attention from Dr. Lawrence having mostly worn off by that point, he swallowed back tears and looked back down to his shoes.

Sunday. Rich said it would be finished by Sunday.

Four days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read my stupid ass fic <3


	4. hjack.exe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the computer, stage left.

Seinfeld wasn't nearly as funny as Rhys remembered. It never was, when he went back to watch it and reminisce to when the humor struck a chord with him, but it just wasn't a good show. He'd feigned shock when Vaughn said he hadn't seen it, as you do, but he really wasn't missing out on much, and there was no way to show him that without watching it. Rhys would have  _ loved  _ to get a picture of his friend's increasingly disgusted face as the episode dragged on, but with Yvette's head in his lap, and his phone just out of reach, he couldn't do much. Unfortunately for Vaughn, that meant episode two.

There was a slowly growing sneer on Vaughn's face that hadn't been there when the opening theme played, and the creases around his nose only deepened as Rhys hit the button to confirm the next episode.

"Sorry, dude ,” Rhys chided. “ Your face is too good to miss out." Vaughn just shook his head and crossed his arms, when Rhys' phone buzzed on the table on the far end of the couch. "Can you hand me my phone?"

Vaughn nodded and passed it over Yvette's sleeping head, peeking at the screen before letting it go. "Who's Rich?"

Rhys sat up a bit and took it, squinting and reading the Facebook message. "What are you, a cop?" It didn't have the usual snark, his eyes narrowing at the screen while he used his free hand to scratch Yvette's head. "I have to run an errand. I'll be back in a bit."

"Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I just need to pick up some classwork I missed." Rhys got up from the couch as Yvette lifted her head with a grumble. He rubbed her shoulder in a silent apology as he stumbled toward the door, feeling returning to the leg she rested on. Tucking the laces in, he took his keys off the hook and turned back to nod at Vaughn. "I'll be about ten minutes."

Vaughn squinted a bit at the door closing behind Rhys, before looking back to the TV and taking Yvette's hand.

-

The door to Rich's dorm swung open when he knocked, Rich standing there with their hair in every direction, looking startled. In their hand was the eye Rhys had dropped off. It didn't look much different, no wires poking out or anything like that, but the once hazel iris that matched his was now a light blue. Rich was turning it over in their palm, looking at it from every angle like they hadn't designed the thing. 

"Rhys! You're he-" Rich started, but a higher voice from inside the room cut them off.  
"Is the kid here?"

Meeting Rhys' confused gaze, they glanced back into the room, then back at Rhys. "...yeah. Yeah, the kid's here."  Checking the hallway for anybody who could disturb them, they leaned in to grab Rhys' arm and pull him inside.   
"Who the fuck is here, Rich?" Rhys took a last glance at the hallway, bereft.  
"Nobody! It's just some med student, it's fine!"  
"Med student? Why do we need a-" She stepped into view, and as hard as she tried, her sweet smile couldn't offset the fear her rubber apron and gloves sparked. 

"Hello! Mr. Davies, correct?"  Rhys lifted an eyebrow at her, looking between the two of them, then back at the door Rich was...locking.   
"What? I don't want anyone barging in."  
"Rich, what the fuck is going on? Why is a med student here?"

"Mr. Davies-"  
"Rhys. You can just call me Rhys. Now, with all due respect, why are you here?"  
Rich rubbed their forehead and glanced back, double checking the deadbolt. "She's here to help. I- look, you want it to work, don't you?"  
"Rich, I don't know about th-"  
" _Rhys_. Do you want the eye to work or not?"  
"Yes, I want it to work, but..." His breath hitched as he noticed the rest of the tight dorm room. If the latex gloves and rubbing alcohol didn't frighten him, the scalpel on the desk did. "...Jesus fuck Rich, how dangerous is this?"  
"It's not! Well, it's not relevant. What matters is that if all goes to plan- which we expect it to- you'll have two functioning eyes. We just...can't make that happen without getting at your optic nerve. That's why I brought in some assistance."  
"Rich, fuck, you can't..." Rhys' eyes darted from her, to Rich, to the scalpel on the desk as his breath picked up. "You can't expect this to be okay. This is fucking crazy, I can't sign off on this-" 

"Rhys." Rich folded their hands and looked down at the carpet, then back up to Rhys. "Are you really okay with this? Right now? How your life is going?"   
"What-"  
"Shut up. You know you're not. You know you can't do this alone. I can help, Rhys. Really. I already set it up, we have it all handled. We have a forty for the pain. This can be done by the end of the night and you can heal up by the time you head to English on Monday." Rhys looked to the floor and reached up to card his fingers through his hair, clenching his fist and staring deep into the floorboards. "Rhys...is the risk seriously not worth it?"

Wasn't it, though? He could fuck up what's left of his vision. He could give himself a few more nasty scars. He could die, if this went wrong enough.

The woman in the market hadn’t lingered after she pushed past him. Just kept walking away, not even turning her head, not another word. Not that he wanted to speak to her in the slightest after that kind of transgression, but it was...strange. Most times it was about harassment, just to get a rise out of him, just to piss him off. This time it had nothing to do with him. He could hardly remember the last time someone called him that- blocked it out, for the most part. It had been hardly three weeks ago.

"Hand me the forty."

-

He didn't remember getting home that evening. Rich was right- it was all done within the hour, and according to Vaughn the next morning he bumbled through the door sometime during episode five. He didn't seem drunk last night, but sure smelled like it, holy FUCK, dude. Yvette was still there in the morning- she must have taken the couch, Vaughn didn't say. He didn't really ask, but she made him eggs and sausage when he finally woke up. She ran her fingers up his back at the table before she sat beside him, digging in a bit less savagely than Vaughn.

Vaughn had some...opinions on Seinfeld. None of them good, but honestly, who could blame him for that. It was bad, as Vaughn pointed out so eloquently as he shoveled eggs into his mouth. There's just no redeeming qualities, he commented, before looking up and making eye contact with Rhys as he paused, eggs midair. 

"Rhys, did you...did you get a new eye?" Yvette squinted and put a hand on his shoulder, meeting his gaze as he turned to address her, pulled out of his train of thought.  "Didn't know you had a blue one, Rhys. Why _do_ you have that, actually? I didn't think they'd give you a mismatching one." 

"Yeah, uh...they gave me the wrong one by mistake a few years ago and I thought it would look neat. What do you think?"  
Yvette chewed on her lip and nodded slowly, before popping another sausage into her mouth. "It's neat, alright. Kind of..." She leaned in, tilting her head just the slightest before shaking it. "Nevermind. It looks cool, Rhys."

Not wanting any further questions, he nodded and looked back down to his plate. "Thanks". Vaughn only paused for a second before resuming his one-sided Seinfeld discussion. Yvette lingered on him, on his eye, as Rhys looked from her to Vaughn, but he didn't seem to pay her any mind. 

-

Yet again, Rich was right. He was more or less fully healed by English on Monday, like they said, and sitting in his usual spot with Dr. Lawrence at the head of the room, he was...rather thankful to have his full vision back. It wasn't quite the same- even if the doctors could have fixed it, he doubted it would ever have been- but he still relished in the fresher perspective. It was hard not to squint sometimes, with double the light hitting him, but for the most part, he could stand it just fine.

It wasn't too hard to stay on track this time, Dr. Lawrence commanded the room as usual, and Rhys was more than happy to give him all the attention he asked for. Among other things. He didn't have a lot of time to complete the dreary reading assignment over the weekend, but if he paid attention to the lecture portions, it was pretty easy to bullshit. 

There was one voice in the classroom when he looked back from the window, and she hadn't let up for the past few minutes, making direct eye contact with Dr. Lawrence as she nodded throughout her speech. He did a decent job of staying engaged, nodding with her and smiling as his eyebrows creeped up and his smile cracked. 

"Thank you, so much for your contribution to our discussion, Miss Tannis. Great point about the author, everyone keep that in mind as we move on to our panel on the next chapter. Does anyone have any opening comments they'd like to share?" Rhys grinned and looked down to his lap as he fiddled with his hands. 

"Mr. Davies, anything to share?"  
Rhys looked back up as his eyes widened, just slightly, raking his mind for any scraps on the chapter he could mention. He hadn't read it. Damnit. 

_ "Say it's interesting how the chapter kicks off with Holden having nobody to turn to, whether he realizes it or not."  _ Rhys opens his mouth and quickly shuts it, looking around for whoever may have said that before repeating what the voice told him to say.  
"I...I think it's interesting how he starts the chapter by making Holden talk about who he can't turn to. You know, maybe...maybe he doesn't realize it yet, how alone he feels." Dr. Lawrence nods at that and reaches his hand up to chew on his thumbnail.

"Interesting. And do you think he is? Alone?"  
"I..."  


" _ Say it doesn't matter. He feels alone, and to a teenager going through a rebellious phase that's enough reason to act out. _ "

"...does it matter? If he feels alone, that's enough reason for him to act out. Even if people do love him, clearly they haven't done a good job of showing him." Dr. Lawrence raises an eyebrow. "...or maybe they have, and he's just too thick in the head to notice. We don't have...the most reliable narrator."

" _ That's not what I told you to say, Rhys. _ "

"Interesting that you call the narrator's reliability into question here.” Dr. Lawrence crosses his arms. “Do you think that could tie back into what Patricia was just saying about the author?" Rhys really hadn't been listening to her four minute tirade-

" _ Say it could, if unintentionally so." _

"It...definitely could add to that, yes. Even if it's not intentional."  
Dr. Lawrence nods, then breaks into a smile as his expression softens. Rhys tries to give an equally charming smile, but with the head splitting migraine tugging at his cheery expression and the new voice in his head, it's hard to be nearly as reassuring as Dr. Lawrence is right now. "Wonderful observation. I like the conclusions you're drawing about the author- I thought I'd have to lead you into that a bit more. Excellent." He gives a quick nod, before moving on to some girl in the back of the room with her hand raised.

" _ You can check out now, cupcake. She's got nothing good to say, I can already tell. _ "  
_ Fuck, what are you- are you the...?  
_ " _ The AI that Rich installed in your head. I know day one updates are a pain, but you must have expected I'd come out of dormancy at some point kitten."   
_ _ Dormancy _ ? Rhys looked towards the door as the thing in his head spoke.

" _ Yes, dormancy. I had to get into your internet connection and download some...files from Rich's computer before I was ready to activate. _ "  
_ Do you...do you need my wifi password?  
_ " _ Not anymore, Rhysie. Took me a second to get in but I can manage. Now, let's talk about interfacing _ ."  
_ Interfacing?  
_ " _ You're very good at repeating what I say until you get it, aren't you? Yes, that tracks, looking through your memories _ ."  
_ You can look through my memories? _

" _ You're going to feel better if I say no, so officially no. But as I said, let's discuss interfacing. I can take the form of Rich, a trusted figure from your life, or I can stay a disembodied voice. What's your preference?"   
_ _ I...what do you mean trusted figure?  _ The chatter of the classroom slowed to near silence in his background, as he turned his eyes to the front of the room. 

" _ I can take the form of any person you trust enough to take advice from. It helps ease participants of the program into an understanding of it. You can change my interface settings later. It can be a parent, but from your memories that may not be your best bet. It can be a trusted teacher, a friend, any face you feel safe conversing with. Additionally, from looking at your previous interactions, I've put my personality settings on something you'll respond best to. You're encouraged to leave that setting until you've accommodated to taking my instruction. Now we can dawdle and talk all day long princess, but I'd like to hear your preferences for interfacing." _

_ So I can pick anybody I trust, and they'll...you'll look like them? _ Rhys could almost hear a sigh in the split seconds before the next response, although that (probably) wasn't something the eye was going to do.  
" _ I can if you'd like me too. We'll try sometime and see how you respond to such feedback. And yes, as I said, you can change the setting later. _ "

Rhys blinked as he focused back in the classroom, not hearing a word Dr. Lawrence was saying as he waved his hands in the air. His smile didn't crack on his face like the last time. When he glanced back, it wasn't at the clock (which was nearing the end of class), it was at his chalkboard, as he tapped his fist next to the chapter outline the class had collaborated on. Rhys cringed as he watched the clock strike the hour before it started to ring in his ears. Dr. Lawrence seemed to come out of a trance, stealing a last look around the room before everyone started shuffling to pack up. Nodding to remind himself that it was time to go, his eyes fell on Rhys for a few seconds longer before he turned back to his desk and started shuffling papers. 

_ Dr. Lawrence. Use him as your interface, if you can. _

“ _ Done. _ ”

As he stood, he almost stumbled as he blacked out for a split second- hands grasping at the desk in front of him for balance, before everything came back into sight. He blinked at Dr. Lawrence, nodding with a tight smile at his concerned stare, then looked back at the new...figure in front of him. 

It really did look like Dr. Lawrence. Rhys smiled at the sight of the (frankly, breathtaking) man in his vision. He was certain he wasn’t tangible- it only made sense that something attached to his optic nerve could only appear to him, and if he verbally replied to the thing at all-

” _ I don’t recommend verbal replies. Your peers are sure to outcast you if they see you talking to something they can’t perceive. _ ” Shame he wasn’t tangible though. Rhys had to look back down to his laptop as he packed up- he certainly wasn’t about to reach out for the program’s collar, run his hand down the fabric, brush the five’o’clock shadow Dr. Lawrence consistently had with the pads of his fingers. He would never do that, but he certainly could daydream about it. And-  _ oh, christ, _ evidently Dr. Lawrence had two different colored eyes. Rhys was never close enough to notice.

” _ Flattered, sweetheart. Now let’s get you back to your dorm. You have seventeen minutes before Vaughn gets concerned, and thirty-four before you get a text from him asking where you are. _ ”  
_ I wasn’t thinking about you, computer. I was thinking about Dr. Lawrence.  
_ ” _ A lesser AI might be offended, human _ .”  
__ Well...what do I call you, then?

” _ Rich has named my file ‘hjack’, though I suspect they misspelled hijack. Refer to me however you like and I’ll make a note of it. _ ” Hijack. Why did that not sound like a good thing to have attached to his brain?

_ Jack, then. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to meow-vvow for reading through this! Find me on tumblr at scp116!

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is NOT sponsored by Winco
> 
> john-marie i hate ur guts <<33
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at @scp116!


End file.
